Reaching the borders of Manida Land was surprisingly uneventful. No flying beasts ambushed them from the clouds, and not a single arrogant young master tried to pick a fight in the middle of the sky.

Apollo, his mount Bluetooth, and the ever-puking disciple Don finally arrived at the city's outskirts, where the towering silhouettes of five majestic peaks loomed in the distance.

Each mountain was like a sword piercing the sky, surrounding Manida Land like silent guardians.

"Building a city within the territory of five powerful sects... bold move," Apollo muttered, exhaling slowly. "No wonder Manida grew so famous."

Bluetooth glided steadily alongside dozens of other flying mounts and carriages, joining the stream of cultivators flocking toward the city. The sky above the border was a moving tapestry of mystical beasts, ornate vehicles, and individuals in flowing robes, each emanating an aura of varying strength.

Apollo scanned his surroundings casually, senses extended to probe nearby cultivators. Nothing stood out. Most were at the Qi Condensation Stage, with a few Core Creation Cultivators mixed in—none younger than their twenties, and none close to the monstrous talent of Kuo-Pal from the Middle Continent.

He half-expected to sense the pink-haired girl again, her cultivation masked behind that paper-thin veil. But after several minutes of searching, he shook his head, disappointed.

She was already inside.

The airspace outside the city walls grew crowded. Flying carriages and mounts hovered in orderly lines, waiting their turn to enter through the designated inspection gates. Manida Land, though famous for its openness, remained firm in its policies. All airborne travelers had to undergo registration—both to prevent incidents and to ensure no unlicensed beast or dangerous weapon passed the gates unnoticed.

Apollo glanced over at Don, who was now standing, albeit unsteadily. His face was pale, but the color was beginning to return.

"We're here. Pull yourself together," Apollo said flatly.

"I—I will, Master," Don nodded weakly, breathing in the thick surrounding Qi. He circulated it using the Simple Breathing Technique, guiding the unrefined energy through his meridians until it settled into his dantian. The motion sickness slowly began to ease.

Meanwhile, Bluetooth was anxiously turning his head from left to right, eyes darting through the crowd with desperation on his face.

"Boss… I don't see her," the blue falcon muttered, voice tense. "Did she abandon my handsomeness?"

Apollo stared at him with a deadpan expression. "Don't be arrogant. You're a bird. I don't know how the hell attraction works for your kind."

"But—"

"No buts," Apollo cut him off, pointing toward the inspection gate. "Behave. Cultivate properly. I gave you my word—if you improve, I'll help you find her."

Bluetooth lowered his head, wings slightly drooping.

Apollo ignored him, eyes now fixed on the gate. After a short pause, he guided Bluetooth toward the inspection zone.

"Master?" Don asked, hopping off quickly the moment they landed. He clearly wanted nothing more to do with airborne travel. "Why are we landing here?"

Apollo stepped off, letting his boots sink into the soft grass. "You know what? Let's pretend we're just normal travelers."

"Huh? But… we have the invitation, right?" Don blinked. "Wouldn't it be easier if we just told them?"

Apollo sighed. "You're still too young."

Don scratched his cheek awkwardly.

"You're probably thinking about the perks of being a VIP guest, right? Special lodging, attention, flattery?"

"…Maybe."

Apollo gave him a side glance. "If you want to bask in the spotlight, go ahead. But understand this—when you walk among the powerful, you also walk among the dangerous."

Don fell silent.

Apollo continued, voice calm but firm. "For now, we'll go in like normal people. No fancy titles. No invitation. Just another face in the crowd."

He turned his gaze toward the line of cultivators waiting at the non-airborne entrance. There, no one asked questions. No inspections. No attention.

And right now, that was exactly what they needed.

Don's eyes lit up in realization. "Ah! I get it now—these people are a pain to deal with!"

"Haha, good," Apollo chuckled, patting his disciple's shoulder before striding ahead. "Now let's move."

If the Manida officials found out that a scruffy beggar-looking kid held an official invitation, it would only raise eyebrows. Investigations would follow—questions, surveillance, scrutiny. In short, he'd be inviting trouble straight to his doorstep.

And that was the last thing he wanted, especially with the Devil's forces still in play. For all he knew, their eyes might already be watching from the shadows.

He had approached the entrance reserved for flying mounts earlier, weighing his options, before deciding to enter through the more inconspicuous route with the foot traffic.

So far, no one had tried probing him—or maybe they had, and he just couldn't sense it. Either way, better to play it safe.

Bluetooth, ever obedient when not distracted by romance, used the Shrinking Technique. His two-meter frame shimmered briefly before condensing into the size of a plump pigeon. With a sharp flap of his wings, the Water-Attributed Falcon landed on Apollo's shoulder, silent and proud.

Together, the three of them lined up at the standard entrance. The moment they passed through the gates, a wave of sound and color crashed into them like a tide.

"Whoa! This is amazing! It's way better than Belthias!" Don exclaimed, his eyes sparkling as he took in the scene.

For a child raised in the back alleys of SlumStreet, Belthias had always seemed lively. But this... this was something else entirely. Towering buildings stretched into the sky, banners flapped in the wind, and storefronts spilled music and laughter into the street. Aromas of sizzling food filled the air, while merchant stalls displayed exotic items from across the continent.

"I really was just a frog in a well," Don muttered, his mouth agape in wonder.

"A bustling street surprised you this much?" Apollo asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I've never been to another city before," Don replied, not even looking at him. "Everything's so new—and the people! They're all so different."

"Fair enough," Apollo nodded.

Technically, it was his first time visiting another city too—but his own excitement had been short-lived. The novelty faded fast when one had to constantly watch their back.

"Wanna have some fun first?" Apollo asked. "The Gathering doesn't start until tomorrow. We've still got plenty of time."

"Really?!" Don turned to him with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Yes. Besides, it's a good chance to learn more about the city," Apollo said. "Let's start with food. I'm starving."

He'd been craving a good meal since the start of their journey, but his empty coin pouch had kept his stomach in check. Now, thanks to the gold coins gifted by Axton and the mayor, he could finally afford something decent.

He had no intention of letting those coins go to waste.

It didn't take long to find a restaurant that piqued his interest. This one specialized in noodles—rare, considering how little they'd seen such dishes back in Belthias. Monster meat, common cuts, and a range of broths lined the menu, but noodles were clearly the highlight.

"Looks like noodles aren't a thing back in Belthias," Apollo murmured as he eyed the menu board above the counter.

The contrast between the two cities was stark. But then again, each city rose under unique circumstances, developed their own customs, and carried the flavor of their founding sects and influences. The Empire might rule over all, but the cities felt like separate worlds.

After scanning the options, Apollo spotted an empty table tucked into the far end of the restaurant—the last available one.

He motioned for Don to follow, but just as they were about to reach it, a figure stepped into their path.

A young man in a waiter's uniform blocked their way, face stiff and voice clipped.

"Sorry, but we don't serve beggars."

Apollo let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"For god's sake... not this again."